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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29321025">The Blind Lead The Blind</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic'>Webtrinsic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>? - Freeform, Angst, Blind Kanan Jarrus, Complicated Relationships, Denial, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hera Syndulla Needs A Hug, Hurt Hera Syndulla, Imperial Officers (Star Wars), Inquisitor Ezra Bridger, Inquisitor Kanan Jarrus, Manda'lor Sabine Wren, Pregnant Hera Syndulla, Scars, Seduction to the Dark Side, Stockholm Syndrome, The Force, Unhappy Ending, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:01:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29321025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Webtrinsic/pseuds/Webtrinsic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the things Hera has braced and prepared herself for, Kanan falling to the dark side isn't one of them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Blind Lead The Blind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>OOP EVIL KANAN AND POTENTIAL RELUCTANT TROPHY WIFE HERA INFESTED MY BRAIN</p><p>my poor hera, i know damn well she would have actually fought back if kanan ever did fall but dear god i just need some angst </p><p>also i been watching the stand off stephen kings book and it brought up some ideas for this so yeah</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She’s still in shock, everything had happened so suddenly. In fact she almost didn’t believe it at all. The rebellion was wiped out, bases demolished, Zeb and Kallus were either dead or in hiding, Sabine was the unjust ruler of Mandalore, Chopper was in a scrap heap, and worst of all both her Jedi had fallen to the dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kanan had been worried about the pull to the dark, especially with how it tried so desperately to sink it’s hooks into his padawan, Hera is sure he hadn’t even thought about it clawing into himself. At least not to the extent he had thought about it doing the same to Ezra. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whatever they’d done to him, it’d been enough to take him away from her. To take him away from everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hera looked out at the stars, the transparisteel in front of her displaying a galaxy that had near completely lost hope. A black lace robe with a furred trim sat heavy on her shoulders, the outfit given to her was no doubt luxurious, but she didn’t quite understand why she was wearing it; Kanan couldn’t exactly see her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he could sense her, amongst other things. Her hand dropped to her abdomen, she wasn’t showing yet but she knew she was pregnant. Knew the man who was father to this coming child had traded his blue blade for red, and there was a high potential this child, if gifted, would embrace red far before they ever knew about blue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The twi’lek sighed, her hatred for the situation extinguished, leaving her prone and vulnerable. She’d denied the offer to fly for them, she’d denied to give them any information, and she’d denied the tears that’d streamed down her face in the wake of all this destruction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wanted her co-pilot, her best friend, her Jedi; the love of her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels as if she’s spoken too soon as the door clicks, it's no doubt him since this is their shared quarters and she knows his footfalls like the back of her hand. His reflection slowly approaches in the glass, she still hates his hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only thing in particular she likes about it is how open his expressions are, the way his jaw tightens and his brows furrow, casting an even deeper shadow over his mark. His outfit is similar and totally different all at once, his shoulder is still guarded and there is still an upside down golden triangle insignia prominent on his chest, but there is no green sweater sitting along his skin. </span>
  <span>There’s a sleek black uniform and chest plate that paints him in the same light as the other Inquisitors, and she’s too shocked at the reflection alone to even turn and face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t seem to mind, not as his arms wind around her waist. Palms resting over her abdomen, over their growing child, his chin resting gently on her head. Her lekku curl instinctually at the attention, his chest pressed to her back normally something so welcoming, it’s easy to see the way his lips turn into a smile at the reaction and she only just nearly returns one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The image of them is striking, she doesn’t feel like herself without a pilots cap on her head, a lace shawl sitting there instead, nor does he feel like the same man she fell in love with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost as if he were a changeling...an imperfect clone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you,” Number twelve, not specter one, admits, his head shifting so his cheek is resting on her head rather than his chin. She misses him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gives him a noncommittal hum in response, upset, and ultimately uncaring if he’s aware of that fact. He won’t hurt her, no matter what, she’s positive of that. Her being alive now was proof of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d asked to keep her and they’d let him, likely uncaring and ultimately pawning her off as his own bed slave, but then they’d taken a closer look. They needed recruits, and if one of their ranks had a partner who was already willing to have children, well, they’d keep her happy, keep him happy, keep their army happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants to urge that they already have kids, but those kids were their pawns now too. Ezra, unlucky number thirteen, while Sabine had risen to Gar Saxon’s position. It seems she was too good at giving the imps armed and ready children to fight for their war. </span>
  <span>Kanan practically the father to them all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man in question brow’s furrow, a weak frown pulling at his lips as he pulls her a little tighter against him as if she were going to bash and jump out of the window to escape him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's a small sigh he lets out, but he ultimately doesn’t offer up any new words, he’d said all he could after walking into the room where she’d been held, clad in new armor, a new spinning saber on his hip, and an imprint of gold hidden behind his white eyes where seaglass blue used to reside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her head lolls back against his shoulder as he noses around her lekku, she’s too overwhelmed and heartbroken to really mind. At least when she closes her eyes she can pretend it’s him and not an empty shell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you tell already or is it too soon?” it’s the only thing she can think to say that won’t end with her screaming, although it may end with her crying, she can’t stay silent forever no matter how badly she wants too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows what she means, and if he doesn’t, it doesn't take him very long to realize, “It’s still pretty early, at least it feels like a boy to me,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,” a tiny Kanan running about. It should have been a nice thought, but she’s terrified. One of his possessive hands pulls away, guiding her left lek off to the side so he could bury his face into the crook of her neck and it's distraction enough to get her cogs moving again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like the name Jacen,” she murmured idly, lifting her chin to provide him more access. His lips are heavy on her skin as he presses kisses and well placed nips along the column of her throat, her pulse point receiving most of the attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand reaches behind her, and she has less hair to tangle her fingers into but she tries. Squeezing her eyes shut so tightly it’s sure to give her a headache, but she tries to imagine his hair long and his sweater green, and a saber on his hip that gleamed like ice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jacen Syndulla,” Kanan sighs, sounding awfully content. She knows why. The name is not only an offering, but a rejection of both of his selves. Deep down she knows there is shame, shame that gives her hope of pulling him back to the light because he is ashamed he fell in the same way he is ashamed he left his master to die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time he just fell too hard, right into the wrong hands that more accurately pulled him under. And her hands are effectively tied behind her back, no matter what she says or does, she is something now for him to reach for, something he had in the past, and she can only hope that it is enough for now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning in his grasp, Hera makes herself really look at her changeling beloved. Her fingers tracing over his features in the same manner he often did hers when he was fearful something had been forgotten. </span>
  <span>She hadn’t understood how much of a relief the action was to him as it was to her now. Her thumbs brush the tips of the scar, it nearly reaching his hairline on both ends, and although his breath stiffles, his head falls heavier into her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d changed his bandages, applied ointment throughout his healing, but she’d never actually touched or explored his scar. Often he was too squeamish and ashamed to really let her chart it’s path with her fingers. </span>
  <span>But he does now, his eyes closing so she can even run the pads of her fingers over his eyelids if she really wanted to. The dark had given him this mark, and she wonders with how calmly he reacts to her prodding, does it feel more at home on his features now that he matches it’s intent? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s pressing her lips to the marred skin before she even realizes she’s pulled him a little closer down. The corner of his lips pull into a familiar smug yet surprised smile all the same and it makes the action more comfortable and all the more jarring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still in there, reacting to her, wanting her. But it is apparent, both from where she stands, how she is dressed, and how she is quite literally carrying a piece of him inside her, that he already has her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you too,” she speaks to that soft side, the side that follows her voice as if it were divine, the side that wanted her to see their future together. Not the one this broken and warped part of him ultimately caved and decided be it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifts her into his arms, her bare feet curling up against his hip as he saunters over to their bed. It is much larger than the cots in either of their cabins that they shared in the past and Hera longs for the ghost more at the reminder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s placed in the dead center, lowered with reverence, and his sightless eyes scope her out as if he really can see as her lekku fan out over the pillows and her robe opens up a little more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d always been bigger than her, but it’s more daunting now, especially as he pulls off his armor, sets the revolving lightsaber on the nightstand and settles into bed. Most nights on the ghost she found herself holding him, or they were both equally wrapped around one another unless she’d had a mishap and he’d tethered himself to her the rest of the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He holds her now, locks their legs together and instinctively she presses further into his hold. She wants to ask what the kids are up to, maybe even if they’d caught Zeb and Kallus, but nothing comes out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The general is too tired to ruin the moment, especially when he is the most Kanan he’s ever been since their capture. Her own hand sits against her abdomen and she hopes little Jacen can’t feel her conflicting emotions, hopes someday he’ll meet his father, the version of his father that she’d fallen in love with. </span>
  <span>Hera hopes she hadn’t missed their goodbye if her Kanan was truly dead and gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rebellions were built on hope. It would seem she just needed to build again.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Snap: allisonw1122<br/>Tumblr/twitter: webtrinsic1122<br/>Insta:Webtrinsic</p></blockquote></div></div>
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